I was an on scene spokes model, pageant queen, and professional model most of my life so I have always been self-conscience about my weight, in my world bigger is NOT better! I watched girls all around me doing whatever it took to be thin, myself included. It was not until I had a close friend die from anorexia that I realized just how deadly this disease could be. In class, we argued a bit whether or not anorexia and body dimorphic behaviors should be classified as a disease or rather as a person’s own daily choices that lead to our own demise. Being a survivor of anorexia and after having dated a man with body dysmorphic behavior, I can tell you that it is a mixture of both. It starts out just wanting to be good enough to not be considered average. You start working out and the endorphins start bouncing everywhere then someone compliments you on how great you look so you want to lose more so people notice even more, and before you know it you cannot stop. I found this picture that kind of explains what a person with body dysmorphic disorders really see’s when they look in the mirror:
As gross as it looks a person with any type of body dysmorphic disorder never see's themselves as being skinny enough, or in a man's case, as muscular enough. Therefore, they keep dieting and exercising until either they get help or it kills them. I think the best way to really express my feelings on the disorder is through a few poems I wrote when I first realized that I was suffering from the disease...
(1)
Look in the mirror
Spit on your face
Bleed for perfection
Throw up in disgrace
You’ll never be good enough
At any pace
Needles replace nourishment
Pop pills to keep you sane
If you can’t hide behind a pole
You’ll drown in the shame
How far would you go…
To get the perfect frame?
(2)
When I look in the mirror
I guess I just can’t see
What in the world
Anyone would want with me.
I see only imperfections
And lack of possessions
I feel as though I’m only worth rejection
My eyes are to small
My nose is to big
My skins far from perfect
My torsos to short
My thighs are to fat
I’ll never move forward
If I can’t accept where I’m at
When I look in the mirror
All I can see
Is everything I wish I could change
Both outside and inside of me.
I’m to scared to move forward
To stubborn to look back
But I’ll never get anywhere
If I can’t except where I’m at.
(3)
Weakness tattooed to my frame
--Scars of the pain--
Staring out a barred window
--In the shadows of my brain--
Fashioned in prison orange
But wearing Abercrombie
In my game of hide and seek
You’ll never find me
I paint on a smile
--With make-up and lies--
I corset my emotions
--With tight pants and trim thighs--
Five foot three, heading six foot under
Shaking in these shadows
--Of the mirror and the hunger--
“suck it in, pinch just skin”
--You need to win
I need to win--
“Be thin, be trim”
--better not bigger--
Smaller, taller, weaker, thinner…
Needles replacing nourishment
Maybe these pills will keep me sane
How far could I really push…
To get the perfect frame?
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